


god.

by pumpkinblood



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: 2017 Pennywise, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, pennywise/reader - Freeform, this is just self indulgent shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 02:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinblood/pseuds/pumpkinblood
Summary: looking at him was equivalent to looking into the face of God.





	god.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on a really dark really tough night. i don’t remember why i was so distraught but pennywise is a distraction for the bad so this is what came of it. it’s ooc but i don’t care i just love pennywise and it would be nice to have clown snuggles when you’re upset don’t lie.

Looking at him was equivalent to looking into the face of God. For you, anyways.

You couldn’t outright say he was an angel or anything of the type, he was far from it, but he was something - something otherworldly, ethereal, divine in his own light. He was blinding, and it was something only you could see, something only you were allowed to see. It was special for you, not for any other being that walked the Earth, but you. Tiny little thing, but you. 

And It was currently wrapped around you.

The only thing that truly mattered in the midst of this was how he felt around you, shrouded in the blanket of his costume, limbs poking into you and grabbing you closer, until you were sure you’d fuse. Your lungs were squeezed tightly, almost uncomfortably, but somehow more loving than any embrace you’d ever had. You didn’t really stand much of a chance against the clown when he wanted a snuggle - it’s not like you didn’t want it, when it was all said and done.

There was never cold, never a chill when he was near. The clown was the embodiment of cold, of fear and freeze and the absence of heat and love but, he was so warm with you. He latched onto you and filled you with a fire greater than molten magma and it seared, it burned right through you, leaving you and everything you were alight. 

Everything the clown was supposed to be, he was the exact opposite for you.

And he could sense it, when you were like this, taste your despair on his long tongue. When you stayed in your car after arriving home from work in the dark to heave sobs over your steering wheel, when you cancelled your plans with your best friend to eat at your favorite restaurant, when you no longer wanted to be around even the people closest to you in your life - he knew. He didn’t care, not at first, you were a toy for him, a little rubix cube to unravel and put together, all in good fun. But fuck all when he began to realize your value never decreased for him, he never got to that stopping point of enough is enough, this human has no hold over me but indeed, you did. 

So he cared. You were distraught, and he cared.

When you pushed your front door open, you threw your keys onto the counter, and wandered your way up the stairs into your bedroom and flung yourself face-first onto your mattress, no care for the dirty clothes still clinging to your frame or even the shoes laced upon your feet. With no one around you screamed into your pillow, it was too much, too goddamn much and you wanted to rip the hair from your scalp in frustration, peel the skin from your arms in fury and gouge your eyes in grief but, he wouldn’t allow that. 

His body hovered over yours in a matter of moments, he never seemed to appear to you like a normal being would, always manifesting in seconds near you, in a puff of smoke and a crack of thunder. He should have scared you. He should have grabbed onto you, and roared at you, and bit into your throat, and drank you down. He should have eaten you. But he didn’t.

You deserved so much more than anything else that was privileged enough to survive before him. You were a privilege even to him.

Ruby lips came down upon the back of your hair, a cold nose pressed into the crown of your head. He caged you in with his arms but instead of a prison it was a crib, his body a lullaby against yours and his face a song pressed into your shoulder blades. You didn’t turn as he laid himself upon you, body draped comfortably over you, his weight firm but enough. You cried harder into the fabric beneath you and he matched your sobs with heady purrs from deep in his chest, trying to drown out the noises of despair coming from you, his human, as they wretched his feelings in a way that made him sick. Seeing you, hearing you like this should have turned him in a vicious, rabid animal - but it made him sick. 

Your weakness should have been his strength, but it turned out to be the other way.

A hot tongue lolled out, spreading wetness over your cheek and down your neck, the clown’s licks were his kisses pressed against your crying face. The clown picked your thoughts like teeth and he knew the reason for your breakdown but did not entirely wrap his mind around it, but it didn’t matter - you were his, and he couldn’t have something of his curled up in sadness - for you, he fed off of your glee and your smile, so he treated you differently. Gently. Tenderly.

Satin arms curled under your breastbone and hugged you so tightly to a pom-pom covered chest, ruffled collar hanging into your face and over your hair and your face twisted in a distraught holler, not at him, but at the world, and suddenly, he understood. When the whole world seemed turned against you, when it seemed every light had gone out, there he was, there it was, pushed against you so snugly he was the only thing that ever seemed to fit you perfectly. No other puzzle piece matched quite like he did.

You turned in his embrace, mashing your face into his collar and howled out your sobs into the layers of cloth, your arms wound across his middle and fingers clung to the pleating on his back so hard it felt like your nails would crack. The clown sat back on his haunches, moving his legs to better pull you into his lap. Your legs tucked comfortable in the empty area between his crossed thighs, and he slid his arms beneath yours, armpits pushed to his the joint of his inner elbow. As he shifted, the bells on his suit jangled out a soft tune. For once, you didn’t scold him for having his shoes on in the bed as your pained noises into his neck continued, and at this point he was the only thing keeping you together. He was the Earth, grounding you and keeping you from sinking, keeping you on land and not drowning in an abyss.

His body began to move, so carefully you barely noticed, rocking you back and forth like a new parent with a baby, his costume sliding with him and acting like a silken blanket upon your skin. He never took his gloves off around you, always making sure they were kept intact, long fingers coated in white fabric splayed onto the back of your neck, supporting you and keeping your face pressed close. The up and down motion of his chest from his breathing and the humming purrs from his throat made your eyes prick with tiredness and the tears come to a slow stop. Fingers massaged into your skin and suddenly you were exhausted, the day had come to fruition and you were just done, ready to sleep your worries away as long as he was there with you. The comforting silence over the clown’s insistent purrs and the arms holding you tautly was enough to have your eyes closing. The clown refused to put you down, though.

So you stayed like this - clutching for dear life onto a clown that should have devoured you the moment he saw you but had only kept his hunger to himself, said clown now resting his head atop yours and his arms were unyielding around you. He had found something, a spark in you that made his instinct dwindle away into nothingness.

It didn’t matter now, whatever you had been so upset about earlier. It had eased its way out of your mind and had been replaced with soft ruffles and a white face and jingle bells and you could never remember what sadness was when you were wrapped up in him. The clown, your clown, only scared away one thing in your life and that was pain. 

You fell asleep that night warm, surrounded by the soft scent of cotton candy and candy apples and carnivals, the feeling of velvet gloves wrapped so loosely and gently about your neck, smooth satin embracing any exposed skin and long arms clutched around you, the sound of bells twinkling with any slow movements he made. As much as you were his little human, you never forgot he was also your clown.


End file.
